After the rain
by samanddianefan10
Summary: love scene for Hawkeye and Margaret during Comrades-in-Arms. Now updated with chapter two.
1. Chapter 1

Margaret took a deep breath. The scotch had tasted bitter and divine at the same time. It was getting harder and harder to find any decent alcohol around here. The last time decent glass she'd enjoyed was a sip from Charles's brandy, a bottle he'd imported from Boston. It hadn't been that long ago, and yet the alcohol was already having its desired effect. Her body felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Her chest burned from the drink but that would pass momentarily.

Thankfully she'd saved this little treat. She might have been a little inebriated, but she wanted to get drunk, completely drunk. There had to be a way to escape the memory of him, the taste of his kisses, and the warmth of his touch. Tonight she wanted to forget all about Hawkeye Pierce.

Just the night before Margaret had found herself stranded in an abandoned hut alongside the dark-haired surgeon. She'd been in an emotional state of denial due to her husband Donald's callous act of infidelity. She didn't know how long it had been going on, and she didn't really care. All she knew was that she had found herself on the receiving end of a love letter addressed to some bimbo named Darlene. She was all too aware that his affections had been waning; this letter only confirmed her deepest fears. Adding insult to injury she hadn't even been in the privacy of her own tent when she read the letter. Hawkeye had been driving them to mission at an aid station when she decided to open the fateful envelope. How he grated on her nerves with his witty remarks and self-congratulatory rounds of laughter. But it was better than being alone.

Only when they arrived at their destination did they realize that their mission had been changed. They were now in the direct line of fire, and had to take shelter. Thankfully, they had found an abandoned hut and pulled over to take refuge.

Hawkeye was surprisingly sensitive to her mood. He asked her about the letter, and she shared with him the contents. He listened and offered her his proverbial shoulder to cry on. Little did she know….

And then night came, and the shots rang out. And she was terrified.

"I'm scared." She called out to Hawkeye. "Hold me! Hold me."

And so he did. He gently wrapped his arms around her in order to shield her from the events around them. She caught her breath as he answered her cries. And without saying a word a grateful Margaret looked Hawkeye in the eyes. Nothing prepared them for the emotions that ran through their bodies, and they joined in a kiss. She placed her arms around his neck and welcomed his kiss. Her tongue welcomed his as it explored the taste of alcohol. Her body arched up against his, all too willing to explore the moment. One of his hands massaged her hair and the other arm remained firm against her back. For a brief moment she opened her eyes to watch as Hawkeye kissed her. It was strange to observe this, as she had only briefly imagined what this would be like. Now here they were, seeking solace from each other.

His hands moved down toward her chest, and she let out a soft cry. How easily she could tremble at his touch. Chills of pleasure ran through her body as she shifted positions, not wanting to be released from his embrace. Hawkeye feverishly kissed her again, this time her cheek and her forehead and her neck.

"I…Hawkeye…" she whispered as she pulled back to look at him.

"What's wrong? What is it? Did I hurt you?" he asked with concern.

"No…I..I just.. I want to know something." She pulled back. "Does this feel wrong to you?"

"No..does it to you?"

She shook her head before leaning in for another kiss. "No." she pressed in. "Not at all."

As the kisses grew deeper Margret became more certain that she would never regret what was happening. He was so good…the way he tasted, the way he touched her, the way he held her. Everything that they were doing felt so natural. He had placed his hand underneath her shirt, sending chills down her spine. She massaged his fine chest with her hand, careful not to scratch him with her fingernail. With one quick movement he brought her around to where her body was now lying on top of his. Surprised, she sighed in pleasure at the overt use of masculinity as he slowly moved his body against hers. She knew she couldn't wait much longer to consummate their passion. Finally she lay down and allowed him access to all of her. The intimacy lasted as neither of them were willing to end the moment.

Back to the moment of reality…..

Margaret set the bottle down. She was nervous, not knowing what to expect from tonight's meeting. Maybe, just maybe….She'd started to pour her second glass of scotch, and she knew she needed to wait for Hawkeye. It wasn't good to drink alone. Especially after last night.


	2. I want her

**This is dedicated to Chickadilly**

**I know this was originally supposed to be a one shot but I was asked to expand so …here it is. Hope you like it. :) In the first chapter Margaret's drinking because she's worried about Hawkeye's visit. Here we learn the results of that visit. Which were also shown in the show. Enjoy!**

Hawkeye sat in his bed, his leg aching from his injury. He still smelled of Margaret's perfume-that, and gin. He'd been drinking one too many dry martinis. He'd been in her tent earlier, talking about the reasons that they could never have a relationship. They were too different. Unless he listened to B.J., who swore that they were too much alike. They wanted different things from their lives. Their personalities would clash. Nothing could come of what happened out there, and she agreed. But it didn't look like she was sitting around crying, for she was writing a "Dear Hank" letter of her own. Hawkeye had been extremely proud of her for doing so. He left the room, embracing his friend, and came way with a new point of view- and smelling exactly like Margaret Houlihan.

He'd gotten drunk after his visit with her. He needed to say the words "it could never work out for us" but yet hearing it from his own lips still seemed so painful. Maybe he could erase the sting of those words from his mouth with the help of a good gin or two.

He was in too much pain to go to the showers, and B.J. and Charles were no where to be found. So he had to sit in silence and pray for sleep to overtake him. If the pain didn't keep him awake it would be the darn perfume. On Margaret it was just fine but it had lost its appeal on him. Maybe if he just closed his eyes and pretend he was back in that hut with her….

Margaret had surprisingly gentle and feminine hands. Not at all what he would have expected from her. But they were soft and tender, especially when they made their way from his hair down to his shoulders. Even more so as she caressed his bare chest. And then there was the way she kissed him. He'd never call her Hot Lips again without thinking of how she definitely earned that title.'''

Margaret was a heck of a woman, not like any of the nurses he'd ever been with. She was confident, so sure of herself, well, in the act itself she was anyways, she knew when to take charge and when to let go. But she knew what Hawkeye liked and she pleased him, very well. She got very creative working around his bad leg, and didn't complain a bit. She'd joined him on top, mindful of his injury and not creating an awkward position for anyone. She went with the moment, and needed no instruction. She was a passionate woman and was eagerly willing to please her man. Hawkeye thought of how good it felt for her to be lying on top of him. He could look into her beautiful ice green –blue eyes and see all the caring she was feeling. He could see every excitement, every sensation, every feeling of pleasure that came across her face. Being injured did have its advantages at this moment. The more she acted the more he reacted to her feelings, causing intense feelings of arousal in both of them. Finally, after Margaret had climaxed, Hawkeye and Margaret had reached peak together. He'd never felt so relaxed afterwards.

He could dream about that all night. But it was time to think about what just happened in the tent when he told Margaret that things would never work out. But Hawkeye could tell that Margaret had been drinking as he had entered her tent, and he strongly suspected that she would drink once he would leave. It was definitely over between the two of them. That was for the best, wasn't it? She was far too needy, far too vain, far too demanding. Within twenty-four hours she'd already made some suggestions of things that she'd like to change about him. He couldn't be with someone who tried to change him, could he? Why was this so hard? Maybe B.J. was right. Maybe he cared a lot more than he wanted to admit to. Something definitely happened back there, aside from the physical contact, and things would change for them for the future. He didn't know how, but he knew that they could never go back to being just Captain Pierce and Hot Lips. He started feeling a little hopeful. He had his memories and he had his hope. What he didn't have was Margaret Houlihan. Two out of three ain't bad. Maybe in another time and another place he and Margaret could have made a real go of things but for now he just had to let her go. B.J. may not understand his reasons. Margaret may not have even understood them. Heck, Hawkeye himself may not have understood them completely, but he knew that those reasons existed. And the truth of the matter was it just wasn't the right time for he and Margaret. Maybe another day, in another time or place. Maybe he could chalk it up to Korea. But for right now he knew that he cared enough about Margaret to know that he wouldn't be any good to her, and he couldn't give her what she needed. As he took the final sip of his gin, Hawkeye vowed that he would sleep peacefully tonight. He did what had to be done. If only he could just get her out of his mind.


End file.
